


Throwback Thursday is for people who don't want to grow up

by imagineering



Category: Gintama
Genre: Getting Together, Haunted Houses, M/M, Partial Memory Loss, Shitty Part-time Jobs, Universal De-Aging, Working Together To Save The Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29412891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagineering/pseuds/imagineering
Summary: When Toushirou wakes up one morning to find that the time has been turned back on all of Edo by more than ten years and none of the other members of the Shinsengumi recalls ever being part of a police force, he assumes his day couldn't get much worse. As luck would have it, it actually can, though. Then again, there's also the Yorozuya, who might be the best or the worst person to tackle this particular problem with.
Relationships: Hijikata Toshirou/Sakata Gintoki
Comments: 13
Kudos: 92





	Throwback Thursday is for people who don't want to grow up

**Author's Note:**

> Hi,  
> Thanks for stopping by.  
> This story is neither particularly original, nor very new. There are a lot of haunted house stories for these two. But I found it among my notes and it's sort of sweet, so I decided to share it for valentine's day. I hope you have fun reading it.
> 
> This has been written just for fun, as always, and the characters don't belong to me.

Being a teenager again had certain perks, Toushirou thought. Having gotten up that morning noticing that there was no subtle ache in his knees, that he didn't feel tired before the day had even started, that the nervous twitch he'd acquired from being on his guard because of Sougo had lessened, and that his taste buds had an even keener sense of appreciation for mayonnaise was definitely on the plus side of things.

The fact that the insufferable ponytail was back out of necessity, what with his hair being fucking long, along with him apparently being the only one who remembered that ten years had passed since he looked that way, not so much.

"Why Toushi, what are we doing in Edo? I don't even remember how we got here, and yet, we have such a great dojo set up already!" Kondou exclaimed, laughing uproariously.

"Who are you punks, ehhh?" Yamazaki drawled, crossing his arms and looking at Toushirou all threateningly.

"Where's Nee-san?" Sougo asked with flat, indifferent eyes, considering Toushirou critically in a way that made him feel cold to his core.

It felt like the world stopped moving, everything around Toushirou screeching to a halt. He sighed, took out a cigarette and lit it. He would have to do this in order. It took him just one drag to decide where to start.

So after dealing with Yamazaki accordingly and commanding him to get rid of the evidence that had formed in the process, right before committing Seppuku five times, Toushirou patiently tried to explain to Kondou that they had been in Edo for more than four years, and that something or other must have gone horribly wrong for the time to be turned back on them. Sougo watched him as if he had lost his mind, and the fact seemed to cheer him up considerably.

"Oh, that's the big city for you," Kondou exclaimed good-naturedly, "no comparison to the country, right? By the way, where do you think we should go first today, Toushi? Do you think there are some things to do here you can't in Bushuu? What about a club or something?"

"Can I write a letter to Nee-san that says that this idiot has gone bananas, Kondou-san?" Sougo asked, looking hopeful.

Toushirou gave up on them.

"Sougo, there's paper for a letter in my room over there, go take some," he told the nuisance, and the boy promptly vanished where he was pointed to, before Toushirou could even tell him where exactly to find the writing utensils.

Judging from his expression, the prospect of snooping around and replacing Toushirou's mayonnaise with laxative had been too tempting or something along that line. Toushirou would worry about that later.

"Kondou-san, why don't you take the day to get a bit more settled here? Stay inside, tidy up, get some rest. I'll be going for a walk, but I should be back in the evening," he went on. His commander nodded cheerfully.

"Alright, Toushi. Once you're done, we can go and explore together. I'll hit the dojo," he agreed.

Toushirou smiled. It was hard not to, being faced with the very man that had saved him once upon a time, looking exactly how he used to then, too. Or, at least, much closer to it than nowadays.

Still, it felt wrong, as if he'd somehow lost about ten years' worth of time spent together. There was something about Kondou's manner that carried just a hint of formality, something that hadn't survived various incidents of shameful behavior on his Commander's part, something that Toushirou didn't know he was so glad to be rid of. He inhaled another drag of smoke.

"Oi, Yamazaki! You forgot some of the piss! Get it done!" he barked, and he swore he could hear a whimper from somewhere within the barracks.

It calmed something inside of him, a touch of normalcy in the Shinsengumi headquarters, where confused members of the force wandered around, questioning when they had actually become part of a new dojo. Toushirou wasn't all too unwilling to leave it behind.

Only a few steps into the unruly streets of Edo proved to be enough to conclude that the rest of the city was hardly in any better shape. Crowds congregated around buildings, marveling at their aspects as if they'd never seen them before.

Some stood in front of the places where they thought they worked, looking bewildered and desperate as their factories and offices simply didn't exist anymore. Toushirou saw that hopeless bum that hung out with the Yorozuya at times apologize to his wife for looking so unkempt, saying he didn't remember how he ended up at the park last night.

This wasn't his city, Toushirou thought, and yet, it somehow was. It was like seeing the home of your childhood inhabitated by other people, it looked the same, but the door wouldn't open for you anymore, wouldn't be as inviting to you as it used to.

Out of habit, his feet carried him to his favorite restaurant. He didn't know why he went there, exactly. It might have been a dark premonition, it might have been a desperate wish.

When he arrived, the shop was closed. Toushirou went around to the back, dropped his spent smoke to the ground, and rang the doorbell. He waited for a couple of minutes, before the wife of the owner opened, looking harried and pale.

"Oh, who might you be?" she asked, no sign of recognition in her dark eyes.

"I'm sorry for the intrusion, are you the owner of the store at the front?" he asked politely.

"My husband is," she replied, "but I'm afraid I can't find him this morning."

Toushirou sighed, as his heart sank. It figured. Of course the people who were dead weren't back. He had already guessed that much.

"Ah, then he was probably called to a meeting with the Amanto to discuss new business regulations. Don't worry, he'll be back before you know it. I was just checking in to see that the request had reached him already," Toushirou said, Followkata-ing his way through it as smoothly as he could manage.

She seemed a little relieved. "You must be working for the government then," she observed, "thank you for being so thoughtful."

"Something like that," Toushirou murmured, embarrassed. They bowed and said their goodbyes.

Toushirou turned, heaved another world-weary sigh, made to light another cigarette and stopped short as his eyes met another pair. The faces of both eye-owners wrinkled in a look of mutual displeasure.

"Why is it always you I find myself stuck with when I get into shitty situations, Yorozuya?"

"Your entire life is a shitty situation, Prince Mayo, that has nothing to do with whether or not I decide to grace your miserable day with my presence!"

"Don't flatter yourself! If anything, your abysmal luck is rubbing off on me and dragging me down, too! Besides, your hair hasn't improved one bit in ten years, shitty perm-head, and that should really give you pause!"

"Meanwhile, your mob has clearly decided to make a break for it. What does that say about you, girly V-bangs?"

Toushirou had no idea how the Yorozuya had gotten right into his personal space, but he found his forehead pressed against the other's younger version in a way that made it perfectly clear nothing whatsoever had changed between them. Even though Toushirou really wanted to strangle him, he felt strangely reassured. This was even more soothing than ordering Yamazaki to commit Seppuku, somehow. They both snorted, moved apart, and then groaned.

"What the fuck are we supposed to do now? Kagura is at home and keeps breaking the furniture, because she's used to Yato tables and chairs, and she's also crying for her mami. And Shinpachi never even turned up! When I looked for him, he was running through the city with his sister, searching for their father."

"Sougo is writing a letter to Mitsuba, and Kondou-san keeps asking me since when we've been in Edo."

A look of understanding passed between them.

"Something must have changed since yesterday," the Yorozuya said.

"You mean apart from the fact that ten years were shaved off of our age and I'll have to live with the certain knowledge that making it past twenty taxes your body tremendously already?" Toushirou drawled, finally lighting his cigarette.

"Stop reminding me," the Yorozuya whined, "and yes, obviously I'm talking about something else. There must be a reason why the both of us aren't affected by the memory loss the rest of the people experiences. What did you do yesterday?"

Toushirou reflected on that for a moment.

"I ordered Yamazaki to commit Seppuku a total of thirty-seven times, evaded Sougo's attempts at murder eighteen times, ignored Kondou-san's more humiliating actions nineteen times, meditated over paperwork for three hours, trained for just as long, filled up my stash of mayonnaise and cigarettes while on patrol, hunted down Katsura and conveniently lost sight of him when he came up to a haunted house, beat the flyer person in front of said house to a bloody pulp when he tried to hand me a pamphlet and took a bottle of mayonnaise from a kind old lady in a weird get-up, that I ate with dinner."

"You took a bottle of mayonnaise from a stranger?!" screeched the silver-haired menace, and Toushirou winced at his volume. "Of course we've found ourselves cursed then, you fucking idiot! It's all your fault!"

"Nothing could ever be wrong or evil about mayonnaise! It's a gift straight from the gods, you heathen! What did you do then, if you're so sure about your innocence?" he snapped back.

The Yorozuya answered immediately: "Well, I slept till noon, then got up after Tama-chan nearly roasted me for not paying the rent, took a trip to the convenience store to stock up on toilet paper and strawberry milk, ran from Shinpachi and Kagura when they ganged up on me for not paying them out of the blue, after not whining about it for nearly two months, met Hasegawa at the Pachinko parlor before Katsura dragged me along on his flight from the Shinsengumi while bothering me to join the Joui-faction, conveniently shook him off when we came up to a haunted house, beat the guy in front of it to a bloody pulp when he tried to hand me a flyer, met a kind old lady in a weird costume who handed me a strawberry parfait which I ate for dinner that evening since I am broke again and Kagura ate all of the rice."

"See?! It's totally you who caused this! Who eats a strawberry parfait that a witch gave to them?!" Toushirou shouted disbelievingly.

Really, how stupid could a single person be?

"Strawberry parfaits are what's pure and worthwhile in this world! As if something could have been wrong with it!" the Yorozuya countered angrily.

"Okay," Toushirou huffed, when the logical part of his brain began to alert him to the fact that yes, there was indeed food that couldn't be corrupted, and maybe, just maybe, he wasn't fully aware of all the varieties, seeing as he didn't need to know others apart from the heavenly universal condiment he always carried around, "let's agree that it wasn't the food. It wasn't the same for us, anyway. So that leaves three things that our days had in common."

Yorozuya ticked them off on his fingers: "The haunted house, the flyer guy and..."

"Katsura!" they both growled together.

It was surprisingly easy to find the useless Joui-leader when Toushirou wasn't looking to arrest him. Katsura didn't even take the trouble of disguising himself as well as he usually did by, for example, donning female clothes or a Mario outfit and doing absolutely nothing about his trademark hair.

He was instead walking in broad daylight, looking hardly any different from his older version, and greeted the Yorozuya enthusiastically.

"Gintoki! I've been looking for you. Have you seen Sakamoto and Takasugi? I wanted to propose to them to join the rebel group I'm thinking of forming. Here, look at this manifest. I need to talk to Sensei about this, too, have you seen him? Also, have you met my darling pet yet? His name is Elizabeth!"

Toushirou assumed the monologue would have carried on for much longer, but there was a complicated expression on the Yorozuya's face, so he decided to cut it short.

"Hey, I actually know a place with a lot of people that would love to join a rebel group," he said.

"It's not hey, it's Katsura. Where is that place?" Katsura asked, instantly interested.

Toushirou gave him the directions for the Shinsengumi barracks. They watched him leave, Elizabeth in tow.

Gintoki scrutinized him, once the rebel leader was gone. "Oi, are you sure that was a good idea?"

"We'll probably never get him into the barracks any other way," Toushirou shrugged, "besides, he didn't know a thing."

"Yeah, it's definitely not him," the useless idiot grumbled.

"No, definitely not," Toushirou agreed.

"Flyer guy next?" the Yorozuya suggested, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. Toushirou nodded.

Finding that man was a little harder. Mostly, because there were millions of his kind crammed into the streets of the district.

"What if he had a different job ten years ago?" Toushirou asked.

"He probably didn't. He looked like the kind of guy that took a shitty day-job once to pay for his PS5 and then didn't manage to get out of it," the Yorozuya said.

"The PS5 wasn't even released all those years ago," Toushirou pointed out.

"Who cares about those details? You need to let your imagination run wild a little! Let loose, you know," the perm-head complained with an expression of complete superiority in his eyes.

It instantly got under Toushirou's skin.

"I'm plenty loose!" he yelled back, earning them a few disconcerted gazes.

"If you were, you'd have gotten what I was saying when I explained it to you so eloquently. You're as rigid and stiff as a board, is what you are!" the Yorozuya countered, and they were forehead to forehead again.

Toushirou turned and huffed, exasperated, discarding his cigarette and fishing for a new one in his pockets.

"I don't have time for this. Let's get this over with first, and then I'll prove to you just how flexible I am!"

"Fine," Gintoki snapped back.

"Uh, I'm very sorry, I do appreciate your devotion to one another, but aren't you a little too young to go that far? I know, love is impulsive, but take your time with those things," said a simpering voice behind them, and Toushirou turned in horror, only to see an Okama with a rather pronounced chin, who winked at them infuriatingly before moving on.

The blush that spread on his face was equal parts mortification and rage, as they both screamed: "Who is in love, you pervert?"

The Okama only waggled his fingers and Toushirou got the urge to throw something after him. Instead, he decided to tell Yamazaki to commit Seppuku five more times when he returned to the compound and lit his cigarette.

Him and the Yorozuya doing... It was just preposterous, was what that was! The thought hadn't even crossed his mind once! Or twice!

Besides, whether or not he had the occasional stray thought in such a direction was besides the point, when the idiot in question looked like someone had slapped him across the face. He was watching the retreating figure of the Okama as if he'd seen a ghost. Maybe it was someone he knew these days who didn't recognize him now.

"Might I interest the two of you in a visit to this massage parlor at the end of the street? Not to question your flexibility in any way, but you look a little tense," said another new voice.

Toushirou's fist shot out purely on instinct, as did the Yorozuya's, and they connected solidly with one cheek each of a rather familiar face.

"The flyer guy!" they exclaimed as one, when the man in question collapsed.

They bickered about who was to blame for that particular mishap for a solid ten minutes, which was when the guy came to again, taking over the ice bags they were holding to his swollen face.

"It's alright, I'm used to it. I've only been doing this for a week, you know, because I need some extra cash to buy a console, but you really catch on quickly to the fact that people hate pamphlets," he said meekly.

The Yorozuya's silent look of victory was hard to bear. Toushirou just so refrained from telling him that the guy hadn't mentioned wanting to buy a PS5, which was really what the argument had been about, anyway.

"I'm still very sorry," he said instead, after clearing his throat uncomfortably, "would you happen to know what you were advertising yesterday?"

"The same as today," the guy said, appearing to be perfectly certain, and Toushirou could hardly keep his disappointment at bay, but the man continued: "It's a shame, really. I wish I could advertise for that new haunted house two streets over. I hear you're allowed to go on a tour there as a promotional event, so as to boost your motivation! The other guys that got that job are really lucky. I mean, there's a ton of haunted houses in Edo, but none are really popular, yet, and I think this one is going to be the best."

With that, he moved away, still swaying slightly, and continued handing out his leaflets, while Toushirou felt cold sweat gather on the back of his neck.

The Yorozuya cleared his throat. "S-say, Oogushi-kun, w-wasn't th-there a really p-p-popular, er, place l-like that on this s-street, b-before?"

"I-I think I r-recall that. B-besides, I'm n-not O-Oogushi," Toushirou replied smoothly. He wasn't scared.

"M-maybe we need t-to go ch-check the n-new p-place out," the Yorozuya suggested calmly. No, they were both just fine.

They made their way over there swiftly and without any hesitation, like the upstanding, unafraid adults they were. It hardly took them half an hour, those two hundred meters. Toushirou was sure they didn't try to turn around more than ten times. Walking up to the not at all intimidating, blood-dripping entrance, they turned to the employee next to it.

"We'd like to speak to the manager," they told the distinctly Amanto-looking creature with facetted eyes and transparent, eagerly beating wings on its back.

"Certainly, dear customers," the insect piped up, "but you'll have to walk through the house in order to do so, I'm afraid, for the owner is very busy and can't be ars- I'm sorry, can't be interrupted."

Toushirou's sword was in his hands before the Amanto could blink even one of its many eyes. The day was wearing his already small amount of patience thin.

"I'm very sorry, Sir," the creature said, panicking, "the boss will receive you, of course, but you really need to go through the house, there's nothing I can do about it! It'll be free of charge, of course!"

The two men turned towards each other, equal looks of bravery and determination on their faces. Toushirou's knees hardly wobbled. The Yorozuya looked pale, but didn't he always?

"W-why d-don't y-you take the l-lead," Toushirou offered gallantly.

"Oo-oh, I w-wouldn't w-want to be c-called a g-glory-hog, w-why d-don't I l-leave it t-to you?" said the Yorozuya humbly.

It followed a marked pause during which they both stared at the other imploringly. When the didn't help, Toushirou grabbed the idiot's hand.

"T-together, then," he insisted selflessly.

The grip Gintoki had on his hand felt like it was squashed underneath a landslide, but Toushirou squeezed back just as tightly. It wouldn't do to get lost among the totally harmless clowns, very unrealistic ghosts and some rather unauthentic looking demons.

"Aaaaaa-aahhhh!" remarked the Yorozuya in the completely normal pitch of a screeching bird, when a headless corpse sailed past them.

"Gyaaaaaahhhh," replied Toushirou, somewhat disinterested, as a group of creepy-looking dolls with blood on their white porcelain skin marched by.

If they ended up clutching each other rather tightly, it was because it was a little chilly in the reassuring darkness that surrounded them.

"Listen," Toushirou whispered, because he didn't feel like raising his voice too much—that was bad for the vocal cords—while they were squatting behind some red velvet curtains, so as not to block the way for others, "we will make it through this. We can do this. And once we did, no one will have to know."

Gintoki had currently buried his head in Toushirou's chest.

"I can't, I can't anymore, I'm scared," he argued very sensibly, not at all reminiscent of a terrified four-year-old.

Toushirou petted his hair only because his hand slipped. It was very soft and thick. Gintoki was a little shorter compared to his grown up version, but so was Toushirou. Somehow, they again ended up being the same height. It felt good to add that to the list of things that had remained.

"I know we can," he said.

"Hijikata-kun, take me home, please just take me home," Gintoki cried quietly.

Toushirou thought of home, of the faces that he wished to be greeted by. They were there, and yet, they weren't.

"Gintoki, look at me," Toushirou implored.

Gintoki lifted his gaze.

"You can do it. We both can. It will all go back to normal. Remember your flat? You need it whole, don't you? You need China to remember how not to wreck the furniture. And you need Glasses to help you clean up the mess."

"I also need for the granny to remember I don't pay rent," Gintoki sniffled.

"That, too. And I need Sougo to stop writing to Mitsuba, and Kondou-san to be slightly less of an idiot than he is now. Or more. Who knows. Point is, this has to stop. So we have to make it through."

Gintoki sighed. He carefully detached himself from Toushirou's chest just a little, but kept a solid grip on his hand.

"Why you feel the need to tell me that is beyond me. It's not like I'm afraid," Gintoki said.

"Good. Neither am I, of course," said Toushirou.

Due to reasons that might be related to self-preservation, Toushirou wasn't quite clear on what happened over the next twenty or so minutes, only being certain that he would never think of them again.

Quite possibly, he found himself clinging to the Yorozuya in the same way as the other had to him. If so, he had no recollection of how gentle his hand felt, carding through his hair that had come loose, or how soft his voice sounded when heard rumbling in his chest.

In the end, they made it through, cornered the fucking fly of an Amanto with a bunch of rolled up newspaper in hand as a threat and demanded an explanation, which they got and decided was entirely worthless.

Apparently, the Amanto had found it difficult to make its haunted house run profitably, because there were already so many good places all over the town. In an effort to gain customers, it had decided to revert people to the mental state of ten years ago. The physical reversion was merely an unexpected byproduct.

The trigger, according to it, were the pamphlets, which its army of part-timers had handed out all over the city. The reason why Gintoki and Toushirou were only partly affected was that, while they had touched the paper for a moment, they had instantly returned it with interest, thus leaving their memory intact.

"I've gotten some really great ideas for promotion lately, though, so I think I might be able to establish my business the normal way. I promise, this is all going to wear off tomorrow, anyway!" the fly said, terrified, when the two livid men advanced on it.

After a few more threats, they let it off the hook, deciding they had wasted enough time on the insect, when it assured them there was no other way to change the people of the city back than to wait.

Beat and tired, they dragged themself away from the place, making an exit through the wall behind the Amanto in order to avoid having to go through the house again. It would be perfectly boring to see it for a second time.

"I need a drink," Gintoki said.

Toushirou grunted his agreement, and they made their way over to the old lady's restaurant. It was open now, and the woman appeared calm enough.

"Ah, the young government worker from this morning," she greeted Toushirou, "you brought a friend?"

Toushirou didn't bother correcting her and ordered them some sake, forgoing the food completely. He couldn't quite stand the idea of having to explain their orders to her, and one look at Gintoki told him he felt the same.

"Aren't you both a little young to be drinking?" she asked quizzically.

"We're older than we look," Gintoki replied with conviction.

"Alright then. I'm sure my husband wouldn't mind," she smiled, and something inside of Toushirou that had felt raw ever since woke up and found an almost unfamiliar face stare back at him in the mirror, started to twinge.

He downed his first cup swiftly, followed straight up by the second. After the third, he felt a little dizzy. Apparently, his tolerance hadn't been what it was now when he was younger. The fact alone added another small sting to the uncomfortable feeling inside.

"You can't turn back time," the Yorozuya slurred, as Toushirou watched the old lady joke with some patrons.

"Yeah. Even when you apparently can, you can't," Toushirou replied slowly, voice just as washed out as the other's.

"It feels like I've forgotten that I forgot all those people are gone," Gintoki mumbled. "I mean, I know they're not there anymore, but I didn't know how much they were missing. Does that even make sense?"

"Who knows," Toushirou snorted.

More quietly he added: "Besides, it's not true. Neither of us could ever forget. It's just easier when the world around you seems to have moved on."

Their eyes met. There was a moment of quietness between them.

Then Gintoki said: "Do you think we'll remember today? The fly said upon changing back, we won't."

"We remembered yesterday. Why should we forget today, then?" Toushirou replied, confused.

"I don't know. But wouldn't it be nice? Living through one day that will not have any consequences?" Gintoki sighed.

"I can't see that being a good thing. Knowing you, you'd gamble away a fortune at Pachinko, get horribly drunk and trash the entire city in the process."

"Oi! I totally wouldn't!" Gintoki protested, lifting his cup and draining it in one go.

"You're already getting drunk!" Toushirou snapped back.

"Alright, fine, but I can play Pachinko any other old day! I've got better things to do!" Gintoki claimed.

"Such as?" Toushirou prompted mockingly.

Gintoki moved lightning-fast, his mouth colliding with Toushirou's. There was a surprised gasp coming from behind him, but Toushirou didn't quite pay attention, too busy responding to Gintoki's assault on his lips.

"This," Gintoki breathed against him, when he drew back a little.

"I guess I'll definitely forget today," Toushirou said, and dove back in.

It was just one day, after all, one day of being young, irresponsible, and unchained. If the world had decided to stand still today, he was entitled to have it, was he not? 

Waking up as a man in his late twenties was no fun when Toshirou was nursing a massive hangover. It was even less fun when his body felt used and wrecked in ways it never really did before, but then again, feeling a warm and steady hand weave its way through his hair kind of made up for it.

Toushirou opened a bleary blue eye and met two bloodshot red ones.

"My, however did you end up here, Oogushi-kun?" Gintoki asked, looking a little smug.

He also looked about ten years older than yesterday, to Toushirou's infinite relief.

There wasn't the faintest hint of surprise in his voice, indicating that his memory of the previous day, just like Toushirou's, remained crystal clear. Toushirou found he didn't mind so much.

"I have no fucking idea, Yorozuya," he replied, pushing himself up on his forearms.

Gintoki smirked up at him and Toushirou, searching for a way to wipe that look off his face, leaned down and gave him a quick peck on the lips. It felt disgustingly sappy, but worked like a charm. Gintoki's eyes looked almost soft that morning. It left Toushirou a little helpless. Fortunately for his peace of mind, the strange atmosphere was broken up quickly.

"Gin-san!! What in the devil's name happened to the flat?!" screeched Glasses' voice from the outside, and the door was pushed open without enough warning for the two of them to cover up sufficiently for the situation not to be blatantly obvious.

Glasses stared at them in disbelief. They stared back wordlessly.

"Put some fucking clothes on you perverts!" Glasses screamed and threw a balled up flyer at them, before slamming the door shut.

Toushirou took the paper and smoothed it out, while Gintoki turned to lie on his front.

"You're the one that barged in unannounced!!" he snapped back equally loudly.

Toushirou glanced at the pamphlet, feeling strangely devoid of emotion. It was an advertisement for a haunted house. "Horror Love" read the blood red headline.

"Scared to get it on with your crush? We've got something much scarier for you that'll send them flying right into your arms!" was printed all over a picture of a weirdly familiar, yet slightly different man with burgundy eyes and silver hair that had his arms wrapped possessively around a slender figure with a sleek black ponytail, turned away from the lense, suspiciously large hands buried in the fabric of a white kimono with a blue pattern.

Half of the perm-head's face was hidden in the mess of black strands that made their way out of the string holding them together, but Toushirou thought there was an unmistakable, tender smile on his lips.

Gintoki looked at the picture over his shoulder. His eyes appeared even more dead than usually, which was surprising, since Toushirou hadn't known that was possible.

They exchanged a glance. Then they started to laugh.

Toushirou couldn't say about what. Maybe it was the exasperated look on the other's face. Maybe it was because he was simply incredibly happy about the return to normalcy, about every small line he could find on Gintoki's skin.

Maybe he was just glad about the familiar expression of fondness on the idiot's face, fondness for the boy who was probably blushing furiously on the other side of the paper door, for the violent girl that started to scream about breakfast that very moment.

Maybe it was all of those things combined that let him know the world was turning once more, moving on.

"You know," Gintoki said, watching Toushirou closely, "that ponytail of yours was quite fetching, but I find I prefer you the way you are now."


End file.
